Camaraderie Has Limits Too
by duchess-susan
Summary: The Watch are sent on a management course. A residential course. A sequel to 'Comradeship Has Limits', but they can be read seperately. Rated extremely cautiously.
1. Chapter 1

**Well-'Comradeship Has Limits' was a joy to write, and people seemed to enjoy it, and I wanted to write another Watch fic, so...welcome to the sequel, and massive thanks to anyone who reviewed 'Comradeship' and made my day-I love reviews (hint, hint). The Watch are being sent on a team-building/management course. Let chaos commence...**

**None of this belongs to me, etc.**

Vimes knew he was being punished. He just _knew _Vetinari was forcing him to go on this course because of the riot Nobby had caused last month. Vetinari had said that it had displayed the camaraderie within the Watch when under stress, and that it was desirable that members of the Watch co-operated better. Camaraderie

So they would all be sent off to a, a _training camp. Together. _It wasn't that Vimes didn't _like _his colleagues, it was just that he would rather not have to spend time learning 'to work as a team' with them. They would be _living _together, for Om's sake.

Vetinari had given him a choice, of course. He could go, or he could issue a public apology for Beti. In full ducal regalia. Vimes didn't call that a choice. He called it mental torture of the cruellest sort.

Now the Watch was boarding a coach which had been hired especially for the occasion. With Vimes, Carrot, Reg, Dorfl, Visit, Detritus, Angua, Nobby, Colon and Buggy Swires travelling in it, it was cramped to say the least. To say the most would take too long, but would involve comments on Detritus' sheer size Reg's unique but not necessarily _entirely_ unpleasant odour, and Nobby's general unpleasantness.

Angua rolled her eyes at Vimes when he attempted to sit down in the inch of space left on the seats.

Carrot was not so disillusioned. 'How generous of Lord Vetinari to be funding our little trip away.'

Colon grunted. 'He made the traffic department cough up for most of it, actually. And a right dent in our budget it made, I'm sure I'll be completely unable to ensure the smooth running of Ankh-Morpork's roads now.'

'You never did _that _much Fred.'

'I tried sir. I _tried. _But when you work in traffic all you gets is abuse. From the public, from the people you fine, from your own _colleagues _sir.'

'Fred?'

'Yes?'

'Shut up.'

Colon looked wounded.

**Just a quick introductory chapter, but the next will be better, longer and more like 'Comradeship Has Limits' I promise.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is, I think, a lot better than the last and returns to the dialogue that always amused me so much in 'Comradeship'. **

**The game of Cripple Mr Onion that has been played previously is chronicled in 'Comradeship Has Limits.' **

Things were getting heated in the coach. A recent game of Cripple Mr Onion had returned to haunt the Watch...

'I never did see that money again.' Reg sniffed.

Nobby leered, although Nobby was a leer personified to begin with. 'I never saw that kiss.' When he leered he turned into a sort of uber-leer.

Reg scowled. 'The point is that we are not playing Cripple Mr Onion now. We just aren't.'

Vimes was getting irritated, which was his only excuse for what he said next. 'Because the coach is too small to give you two any space in which to be alone together.'

Angua began to study the landscape out of the tiny window she was wedged up against. The landscape bored her, so she resumed listening to her fellow officers. Which was a mistake. Visit had had some new pamphlets made for this momentous occasion. And was attempting to hand them out. Dorfl was the only enthusiastic recipient, although Carrot could have been designated amiable. Vimes, however, indulged in 'accidentally ' setting his on fire with his cigar. Visitwasn't suicidal, so refrain from taking issue. He just shot Vimes a disapproving look and sniffed pointedly.

Angua stared blankly at hers, waited until Dorfl began occuping Visit's attention with a debate, then threw hers out of the window. Carrot still saw though. He gave her a reproachful look.

'Constable Visit spends a lot of time on those, you know. You shouldn't treat them like that. At least save them for later, they might enlighten you.'

'Carrot are you seriously telling me that you have actually read these things? And that you would appreciate me converting to Omnianism?'

Carrot's honest smile faltered for a moment. 'Well...maybe religion _could _have a place in your life.'

Angua noticed he avoided mentioning whether or not he actually read the leaflets. 'Religion does have a place in my life. A place next door to silver bullets and dissolving handcuffs in the 'useless and/or harmful' block of my soul.'

Carrot frowned. 'Cynicism is not necessarily a desirable trait.'

Vimes laughed. 'In Ankh-Morpork cynicism may not be a _desirable _trait but it _is _a survival trait, at least for a Watchman.'

Carrot tried. He really did. 'You always paint Ankh-Morpork in such a negative light, sir, but you're the first to defend it, so surely it can't be-'

'Carrot I defend it because if I didn't someone would burn it to the ground. Again.'

Reg flinched at the mention of burning. To try and take his mind of it he began moaning. 'I hope everyone realises that I'm going to miss my Fresh Start meetings. Without me the undead community will-'

'Fall apart?' Nobby could be quite nasty when he wanted to be.

Reg just glared. The effect was rather spoiled when the coach went over a pothole and his nose landed in his lap.

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	3. Chapter 3

**The Watch arrive...and where they're staying isn't **_**exactly **_**the Ritz. In fact it is based on a little place I stayed in last year, which had a staircase so small you had to twist diagonally to make it downstairs. No joke. **_**And **_**it had pew-like seats, whilst being located a few hundred feet from a ruined monastery. Make of that what you will. As ever I would love reviews, especially since I am in the midst of exam season and it's getting me down, hence the slow updates.**

They were apparently staying in a tiny cottage, in the middle of a rather feeble wood, in which the trees appeared to be relying on each other to stand up.

'You have _got _to be joking.'

'How Often Does Lord Vetinari Joke, Sir?'

Vimes glared at Dorlf, not out of malice, but because he had to glare at someone. 'It's hard to say, but when he does he makes really _serious _jokes that no one else can see the funny side of.'

Dorfl nodded solemnly. 'I See. So I Should Not Laugh At This Point?'

'No.' This was Angua. She thought she should step in before the Vimes colour chart of rage progressed from magenta to terracotta. As ever the exact shade could be seen on his face and ears.

Colon was looking at it, aghast.

'What's up?' This was from a nervous Nobby. Living in an enclosed space with an enraged Vimes was something only Sybil had been known to survive. And she was used to _dragons. _Nobby wasn't even used to living with other humans.

'I...I don't like the _country.'_

'This is hardly the country, Fred. This is the woods.'

'What's the difference?'

'Less fields and more bears and wolves and suchlike.'

Colon whimpered. 'Really?'

'Yes.' Nobby tried to act as though he was an expert on all things forest-related and followed-up with 'and really _savage _owls.'

'Owls, Nobby?'

'Yeah. What can swivel their beak round 360 degrees.'

Carrot interrupted in his usual amiable manner. 'You mean heads, Nobby. Owls swivel their heads.'

It was too little too late for Sergeant Colon, who had run into the cottage. And then came running out again.

'What _now?' _Vimes had come back from his private world of rage.

'It's all one room, sir.' Colon was an urban person. He liked a house to have multiple rooms. 'The downstairs is just one big space. Only it's not big, it's small, sir. But it's _relatively _big, because it's all there is on the ground floor, you see?'

'Sir he's babbling.' Angua sighed. Colon was obtuse enough sane. She wasn't being unkind, it was just the truth.

Reg ventured in. It got him away from Nobby, who was trying to comfort the gibbering Colon. He got as far as the first (and last) floor before coming out again.

'I don't know what upset him so much. Okay, so it's _small, _but you should see some of the coffins these days, barely room to breathe, if you felt that way inclined. And the upstairs has different rooms, admittedly not _many, _but still. The downstairs just has...well come and see. Only not all at once, I don't think we'll be able to fit everyone in.'

What the downstairs had, was in fact, very little. A single wooden bench, that Visit identified as a pew looted from somewhere or another. A small and evidently much used table, that had more paper shoved under the wobbly legs than original wood. A fireplace, soot-encrusted and bereft of any form of fuel dominated the room, which wasn't hard. Despite the sparse furniture the remaining space was still cramped. Upon witnessing the first floor Vimes would have preferred sleeping on the floor to the beds, which looked fundamentally unstable and cripplingly uncomfortable.

'Okay. I suggest we burn this place to the ground and go and live in the forest.' Vimes caught Carrot's eye. 'Only joking.'

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	4. Chapter 4

The Watch were clustered around the fireplace, with the exception of Detritus who was being used as a draught excluder and was sat with his back wedged against the door. The fire was unlit due to Reg almost having hysterics at the thought of being in a the same room as a fire. Also anyone trying to gather firewood in that forest would have to be prepared to become a source of major deforestation by removing just a few twigs.

'What do we do now, _sir?' _Colon was getting lippy. He was already sick of the country and longing for the cobbles of home.

'We learn to be a team. Vetinari told me we were being sent to a 'management camp' and this appears to be _it.'_

'How long do we have to stay here before we can catch a coach home?'

'There_ aren't _any coaches home Fred. The one that took us here was especially arranged.

Hope danced a brief jig on Fred Colon's face. 'And a specially arranged return coach is due to arrive...'

'Never.' After Vimes said this Colon looked as though he might dissolve into tears. Actually given Colon's portly figure and red complexion _erupt _into tears might be a accurate description.

Visit tried to look on the bright side, and in doing so cast the others deeper into the darkness of despair. 'I've got plenty of pamphlets, so at least we all have something to read.'

Angua wondered if it would be demeaning to provide a real-life variant of 'the dog ate my homework'. In this case it would be 'the wolf ate my Omnian pamphlets and then destroyed the only available printing press'. On the whole she decided that it lacked dignity and she would only do it in an emergency, such as if anyone but Dorfl attempted to read one of them.

Nobby was glaring at everyone. 'You all complain about being bored and when I offer to entertain you with some of the stuff I learnt in Klatch-'

'Stop right dere Corporal.' Detritus could interrupt like no one else. It was something to do with being like a small avalanche.

_'Thank you_ Detritus.' Nobby sniffed. 'Who told him to say that anyway?'

Vimes didn't even try to look innocent. 'Nobby we are doing this for the greater good. If you carry on I'm afraid you may inadvertently commit suicide. Stop now and we might let you live.'

'What in this stupid cottage with a neurotic Colon, a devout Visit and a Reg that can't keep himself together at the best of times. Not to mention-'

At this point Dorfl's massive palm descended on Nobby's mouth and his words devolved to small muffled noises. 'I'm Sorry But I Must Prevent Harm From Coming To Human...oids. There Was Considerable Risk Of Nobby Incurring Wrath That Would Convey Itself Through The Medium Of Violence.'

Vimes was bored. He needed something to get angry about, and this looked promising. 'So what was he going to say?'

Dorfl frowned. 'Something Unflattering About An Apoplectic Vimes, Sir.'

Nobby made some particularly frantic noises. Dorfl, mistaking them for signs of asphyxiation let go.

'AND crazy golems. What about my right to free speech?'

Dorfl shrugged.

'Safety Comes Before Even That. When Mister Vimes Is Involved, At Least.'

**Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the lack of updates-exams and writer's block I'm afraid.**

Birdsong filtered into the cottage as dawn chased the night away. Vimes didn't trust any location in which the birds decided to serenade the new light. Any species with that much time on its hands had something to hide. In the city no birds sang in case a gargoyle wanted breakfast. Silence had become such a survival trait that most species had now perfected beak-syncing their songs.

'Fred?'

'Yessir?'

'Think you could arrest those damn pigeons? For noise pollution.'

Carrot, possibly the only morning-person of the Watch chipped in. 'They aren't pigeons. They're blackbirds. Listen to how they trill.'

Vimes and Angua rolled their eyes in unison. The whole Watch had slept downstairs, after Detritus had managed to destroy the upstairs, whilst ''aving a look for anyfing we can burn.'

'Whatever. Just someone get them to shut up.'

Angua nodded, slipped outdoors and growled, loudly. The sound of avian music was replaced with the sound of frantically flapping wings. Then all was quiet, except for the sound of Visit and Dorfl debating whether birds were: a) the creation of Om, b) the result of evolution or, when Vimes got involved, c) irritating little winged rats.

'What are we going to do now?' This was from Reg, who was patiently sewing a thumb back on.

Vimes scowled. 'We are going to act like a _team.'_

'And What Exactly Does That Entail?'

'Getting back to Ankh-Morpork.'

Colon brightened. 'The city?'

'Yes,' Vimes growled, 'the _city. _I don't know whose idea of management training this is but I'm not the management _type. _I'll just stick to the old-fashioned method of giving orders and watching them being ignored.'

'What About Vetinari?' Dorfl managed to bring Vimes' rant to a dismal conclusion. 'He Said We Have To Do This.'

Colon's face transformed with anxiety. 'He might get _satirical, _sir.'

Vimes swore loudly. It seemed he _would _have to sit this one out, even if it was just for a few more days.

Visit waved something under his nose. 'Half a dollar, please sir.'

Vimes glared. 'Are you seriously telling me you took all the trouble of getting the swear box off of Nobby and took it all the way out here in order to dissuade bad language? That's-'. Vimes stopped. He didn't want to be paying anymore into the large tin that would inevitably end up funding the Save-Corporal-Nobbs-From-His-Bar-Bill Trust. He altered his strategy. 'As your commander I forbid you from implementing an illegal fining system.'

Visit frowned. 'How is it illegal to improve your soul by discouraging swearing, which Om regards as-'

'You aren't being taxed on the earnings from the swear box,' Vimes interrupted.

Angua concentrated intently on the hole in the ceiling. She had heard of people going stir-crazy, but this was ridiculous. Vimes was married to the richest woman in Ankh, as well as having a very reasonable salary of his own. And he was quibbling over a half-dollar because, in this cottage, there was nothing else to do. Unless the urge to read religious leaflets, or watch Nobby, as the "alluring" Beti, dance gripped you, you had to make your own entertainment.

Nobby was getting irate again too. 'No one let me off, I pay _hundreds_ into that stupid little swear box every year, and no one ever says "don't do it Nobby, they ain't putting it on the tax form." No, everyone uses the money to buy figgins, and then eat them all before I can get one.' At this point Nobby turned to Colon. 'I've seen you Fred, eating Figgins bought with _my _money, like there's no bakeries left in Ankh-Morpork. Never save any for your fellow traffic officer do you?'


	6. Chapter 6

**Here we go again with the cruel Nobby and Reg jokes-anyone interested should probably check out my Nobby/Reg romance (kind of) 'Glad to be Grey or Miserable to be Miscellaneous'. As far as I know it is the first fic to be devoted to that pairing, probably for a GOOD reason. Sorry for the length of time between updates-exams and writer's block again.**

Angua was forced to admit that, despite having enjoyed the benefits of city life, she was not the one for whom they held the most importance.

Sergeant Fred Colon was not coping at all well with the...

'_Woods. _You can't trust them. All them _trees _out there, when they should be on the fire in _here.'_

Angua shook her head. Turning to Vimes she asked, 'do you really think he's alright sir?'

Vimes shrugged. 'If he's not he'll soon get better.'

Angua gave him a confused look. 'And how will he get better?'

'He can't get _worse.'_

Angua kept her scepticism to herself on that particular point. Reg and Nobby had ventured out several hours ago to collect wood, but had recently returned claiming that the woods were structurally unsound enough without removing anything. Dorfl had, in his patient and naive golem way pointed out that finding that out could not have taken hours, after which an awkward silence had prevailed upon the group whilst they considered exactly what Nobby and Reg had been doing in the woods. And then Colon had started gibbering about setting fire to the surroundings. And Vimes had looked tempted by the scenario.

Carrot tried to lighten the mood. 'Why don't we all do something worthwhile and-'

_'No.'_ Vimes growled the word as though it had committed a rather large and exceedingly interesting crime.

'But...'

'No. I'm Commander here and I decide what we do. We are going back to the city, whether Vetinari likes it or not. This is _ridiculous. _And if anyone complains we'll say it was for the sake of Fred's mental health, which has never before been _worse _than his physical fitness. So we are _leaving._'

With that the Watch abandoned the cottage. Even Visit didn't complain. In a fit of cabin-fever Angua had, after asking Vimes, of _course, _buried his pamphlets. The Watch, upon leaving, found a long walk across the plains awaited them if they didn't get _resourceful._

Nobby was the only one who volunteered any helpful suggestions. 'Should we hitchhike?'

Vimes blew a smoke ring. 'No...we'll just arrange for someone else to be hitchhiking with _us.'_

Dorfl chose this moment to state the obvious but currently ignored. 'We Would Need To Get To The Road First As We Are Currently In The Middle Of The Woods And Far From Any Coaches That We Could Beg Free Passage From.'

'That was a...pertinent remark, Dorfl.'

'Thank You.'

Vimes glared at the wood as though he were considering burning it down. Indeed, he was biting down on his cigar as though resisting the urge to throw it into the undergrowth. 'Into the woods we go, then. To find the exit.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Finally, I got around to writing the last chapter. I'm sorry it's taken me so long.**

Vimes observed Detritus. 'When I said we needed to find a way through the trees I didn't think we were proposing a forest clearance scheme.'

Detritus shrugged. 'I found da way out, didn't I?'

The rest of the Watch was forced to nod. Detritus had indeed, by dint of merely walking in a straight line, found the road. Branches and leaves still adorned him.

'How are we going to stop a coach sir?' Colon was feeling _far _better now he was out of the trees.

Vimes just looked at his broadest sergeant and glared. 'With a road block Fred. You and Detritus, out there please, in the middle of road where everyone can see you.'

It took thirty minutes to push Colon out into the road. He stood with his hands outstretched, whimpering, having been firmly told that hiding behind Detritus would result in his pay being docked and hence Mrs Colon giving him an earful.

A coach screeched to a halt right beside him, just close enough for the horses to snort at his palms. Sergeant Colon gave up at this point, gibbered something about not liking animals and ran to the safety of the rest of the Watch, whom he had _not _been forbidden from hiding behind.

Vimes marched up to the coach, rapped on the door, then wrenched it open without waiting for a response. He did not note the colour and design of the coach though...

'Alright, we need a lift to Ankh-Morpork, all of us, and your travel plans now include the city, so we'll just make ourselves at home here-'

'Ah Vimes. I was wondering when you would charge back to Ankh-Morpork. I'm pleasantly surprised to see the rest of your training group has survived the woods. Marvellous.' Vetinari raised an eyebrow. 'I'll send a coach to fetch you, shall I? Drumknott remember to send a coach out here when we get back, won't you?'

'Of course sir.'

'I'll expect you in my office at nine on Monday then Vimes. And I'll tell Lady Sybil of your forthcoming return.' With that the door shut and the coach swerved round Detritus.

'Should we wait here sir?' This was from Angua.

'No. We'll start walking.'


End file.
